Illicit LiaisonsMature

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There is no space that a shape representing me would fit nicely. If this was Tetris, I would ruin every game when my piece came down. But some times, just some times, it works. Some times a little chaos does the trick.
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"Upstairs. He went to get the thing." Craig's voice sounded whispery and mellow.

He exhaled an alarming amount of gray smoke and then passed the pipe to Nora who now sat in the La-Z-Boy. Jason's seat.

"Are we going to try again?" She inquired, not to anyone in particular, before breathing deeply of the pipe's contents.

"Beats me" Jones said with a shrug.

"I hope not. We've been trying to get that damned thing to work for four years." Craig looked to everyone in the room, one by one. Each gave him a sidelong glance, but they said nothing.

"Seriously, guys. Don't you think if it was actually a magical artifact of some kind we would have seen some sign of its magic by now? We've tried activation rituals of every damned mainstream and clandestine religion of the last ten thousand years."

No one responded.

Perhaps he was being a little too skeptical; Jason knew his stuff. Everyone knew that. He even tracked down another one of them which they were going on a road trip this weekend to attain. Craig figured he probably shouldn't doubt the guy, especially after everything Jason had done for him.

"I'm just getting tired of doing this all the time, I guess. With the other stuff, we actually see results. With this, we've got nothing."

Still no one responded, but he felt a small amount of tension vanish from the room. The easy-going mood had restored itself and everyone appeared lax once again; Jones was repacking the pipe, Nora was blowing smoke rings, and no one was giving him sidelong glances of condemnation.

"Is it just us today?" Jones finally interrupted the silence.

"I think so. Ben has the flu, and Shelley has that court thing." Nora spoke softly, her voice sounding soft and amorous as she exhaled the last of the smoke.

Craig chuckled at that. He knew Nora always disliked Shelley and normally didn't make a secret of it. Now was no different; the way she brought up the court thing in such a loving way, considering Shelley only had the court thing because of her insistence on doing as Nora asked. She was always seeking ways to gain approval from the dominant female. That time it happened to get her in a bit of trouble with the law.

For a long time Nora had been the only girl, and Shelley had ruined that for her. She no longer held the exalted status of The Only Female. Having lost that, she defended her status of The Dominant Female viciously.

"So, whats on the menu this time? Are we going to eat rat droppings to get that thing to work?" Craig looked to Nora with a jesting smile, earning himself the disaproving regard of her and Jones once more.

"Actually, smartass, Jason thinks he may have figured it out. Why do you think he's bringing it out again after a month of not trying anything?" Nora said.

"I was just kidding." Craig looked to the floor, and there his eyes remained fixed for several minutes while Jones finished off the pipe. Nora sat in the plush chair, drawing invisible shapes with her index finger on the arm of it. She always waited for Jason before she smoked so much that she could not take another lung full. It was nice of her; that way Jason never had to do it alone.

The dust bunnies forming around the legs of the coffee table before him were abundant, and Craig imagined them to be some form of primitive life growing there. He was zoned out, oblivious to the stomping footfalls of Jason above him, descending to where they were.

Moments later, the door of the room flew open hard enough to knock a hole in the wall where the knob made contact.

"It's gone." Jason said, anger written in every nuance of his expression.

I laid in my bed for some time trying to think of a name; surely a name is what it wanted. What it deserved. But my thoughts were haunted by that loon, the single ruby eye staring and its vague double on the surface of the water.

Aquilonius Avis.

I don't know where that came from. It was latin, I knew that from past studies, but its meaning escaped me. Somehow those words had been combined with the image of the loon, and now every time I thought of that bird something inside me said that name: Aquilonius Avis.

Was I even sure that it was a name and not something else? Somehow, yes.

I spoke it softly to myself, pronouncing each letter clearly and savoring each syllable. My sweater hugged me delicately and I realized we had found a name.

It was then that I noticed a change in my clothing's embrace. It was softer. Firm, yet softer.

Fleshier.

I looked down my own body and saw the sweater had moved. The arms were now at my back, and the sweater began taking shape. Inside it was only darkness, but the arms and torso began filling out.

The sweater loosened, perhaps sensing my feeling of claustrophobia. The arms slid out from under my back and the sweater began rising even as I was filled with an immense sense of joy. I closed my eyes and concentrated on that feeling, and when I opened them there was a beautiful woman standing on the floor at the end of my bed.

Her olive complexion was flawless, her black hair contrasted in beauty with her eyes; a most wonderful shade of sky blue. For a minute I stared at her, and she stared at me.

I said hi, her response only a seductive smile. She crossed her hands at her abdomen and then began slipping the sweater over her head. She was wearing nothing else.

Taking in the sight of her, I wondered how a creature of such beauty could be mine-I wondered why she was here. I hoped dearly that I knew the answer to that. I was right.

She climbed on the bed at my feet and began the sexiest feline crawl I'd ever seen. This most perfect of women crawled toward me, and then on top of me. I felt like I had found paradise for a moment, knowing what was about to happen; the act which was always beloved and often condemned.

A sense of immense contentment filled me as I felt her body on mine. Her skin so smooth, her body both soft in the right places and firm where it should be. I felt the warmth of her, and the warmest part of her touching the warmest part of me through my clothes. Hurriedly, I moved that thin but troublesome barrier.

It really was happening to me. I hadn't earned it, though. To be in a situation like this with a woman such as this was supposed to require a lot of work. You had to be a certain kind of person-a person like Jason. I was not a socialite. I didn't know how to seduce any woman, much less one of the caliber which laid atop me now. For something like this to happen without the need to first entice and then seduce almost felt like committing rape.

But that was ridiculous. She was the aggressor.

Just let it happen, I thought to myself.

I didn't earn this, I argued, and then made the decision to shut down my brain.

That never works instantaneously, however, and in the moments my thoughts were winding down I felt guilty, then ashamed, and then completely lost to the moment. Somewhere in the back of my mind an ancient and seductive rhythm increased in volume and tempo, fully completing my paradisiacal moment.

I managed one more thought before she sank herself down on me and I was lost completely to pleasure immeasurable: So perfect. I did not earn this. I'm going to pay.

Story summary

Written in first person. Set in a fictitious town in the Muskoka area of northern Ontario, Canada. The main character is an introverted loner, with a broken and still-breaking family, who investigates the cult-like behaviour of his former friends to discover a surreal and magical truth that runs deeper than anything he suspected. After breaking a terrifyingly magical mirror and falling two-stories unharmed, he finds himself stalked by a shadowy spirit.

Our narrator seems to have split in two. And on top of that, we're throwing in third-person narratives of the baddies. I don't think we've even given him a name yet, have we? Hmmm... And now I've thrown time travel into the plot. I assume Jason is either trying to obtain all the Mirrors of Thirteen for the thirteen members of his 'coven', or...

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